One Heck Of A Ride

161 for nearly two hours when we reached an area covered with short, wet plants that were covered with ice and water, and slicker than banana peels. It was in a steep, nasty place on the edge of fifty- foot cliff and only the fast reaction of my guide kept me from going over the edge when I slipped. If he had not grabbed me, I could have been a bundle of blood in an instant. Twenty minutes later, we were glassing a group of six chamois that were feeding on a shallow spot on a shelf about 200 yards away. One of the males had heavy horns, but they were much shorter than the horns on the largest female in the bunch. I spent at least ten minutes trying to choose which chamois to take before I decided to shoot the female. This time I made it a point to concentrate on a small spot behind the nanny’s shoulder before I shot, and she dropped in her tracks. When her horns were measured in California, I learned I’d made the right choice. Those horns missed gold-medal status by a mere 1/8 inch. This Carpathian chamois, a female with outstanding horns, was with five others in Romania when the author shot it in 2003 Three Countries For Ibex